


Explorers

by Azzandra



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fade Sex, Other, Pre-Canon, Solas Smut Saturday, The Fade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzandra/pseuds/Azzandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas loses his virginity to a spirit in the Fade. That's pretty much it, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Explorers

**Author's Note:**

> [My contribution](http://azzandra.tumblr.com/post/129942772871/i-hadnt-planned-anything-for-solas-smut-saturday) to Solas Smut Saturday on tumblr.

It was not that Solas was unused to having eyes on him while in the Fade; the dreaming world brimmed with spirits wherever he went. He attracted curious little things who enjoyed poking and prodding at him.

This one in particular, however, chose to peer at him from mere inches away from his face, so that the moment he fell asleep, he had two large, softly glowing blue eyes occupying his entire field of vision.

“Hello,” he said, only a twinge amused.

The spirit pulled back in a swirl of indistinct blue.

“Hello!” it said back. “Who are you?”

“I am Solas,” he said, and upon the spirit’s expectant silence added, “A dreamer. I travel the Fade, seeking new things.”

The spirits perked up at this information, and in a burst of movement made a twirling spin in the air to express its excitement.

“Oh, yes!” it said. “I, too!”

“You travel the Fade?” he asked.

“And I seek new things! I am Exploration,” it introduced itself.

“A pleasure,” Solas replied, grinning. “I am glad to hear we have so much in common.”

* * *

 

Since leaving home, and the crushing boredom of his former life, Solas had met many spirits. Some were bound to physical places, or certain areas of the Fade. Others were passive things, receptacles for the experiences which dreamers brought with them. Each had their quirks and  differences, revealing subtleties of personality altogether more complex than expected.

Solas had learned, for example, that Exploration was by its very nature unfettered, forever searching for new things to see and experience. In that respect, Solas found his kindred, and though their journeys sometimes took them on forked roads, they were always happy to share the things they’d discovered when again they met.

“Come see, come look,” Exploration would say, its voice underlaid with the sounds of wind chimes or small tinkling bells, and it would lead Solas to some new sight that he often did not expect.

It could be anything: a memory of a waterfall, shimmering golden as it split over red stones; a dream of a flower, each petal opening into a ray of light; a pit in the ground, like an open sore, a burning fire screaming its anguish within it. They were not all things Solas would have necessarily wanted to see, granted. But always new.

“Do you suppose there are only so many things in the world,” Exploration had asked once, “and there will be nothing new once we discover them all?”

“New things are forever added to the world,” Solas answered. “I would sooner fear we would not be able to discover them all before they turned into something different.”

Exploration remained silent for a few moments, seemingly considering his words.

“How worrisome,” it said after a time. “We should truly hurry then!”

Solas laughed.

* * *

 

On occasion, as he traveled through the dreaming world, Solas would stumble upon some dream or memory that made him linger. This time, it was a tree on the bank of a clear, flowing stream. The tree was not the kind of mountainous, awe-inspiring thing that loomed tens of miles into the air, but instead small and soft-barked, hunched over so its canopy offered an inviting bit of shade in the summer sunlight.

Perhaps this was a real place someone wished to remember, or a desire given shape, but either way, Solas enjoyed it, and sat down by the stream, contemplating the grass which swayed without a breeze.

He was so lulled by the peace of the place, that he did not initially notice he was not alone.

“Hello, my friend,” he said.

Exploration settled down in the grass, as if kneeling. Its shape had become more concrete since the day Solas met it. Where before it had been little more than a diffuse cloud of pale blue light, now it had settled into a deep rusty orange silhouette, with its own arms and legs, and even the hint of sharp-tipped ears when it turned its head a certain way. Its chest beat with a steady pulse, like a small sun was at Exploration’s heart.

“Hello, Solas,” it said. “Can you tell me about clothes?”

It was not a completely unexpected question. Exploration liked features of geography best, but had recently expanded its interests to architecture, and then the Elvhen themselves.

“What would you like to know?” Solas asked.

“Sometimes it comes off,” Exploration said, sounding puzzled even as it made the statement. “But then why would you put it on in the first place?”

“Many reasons,” Solas replied. “Firstly, it offers protection against the elements. But beyond that, it can signify a great deal of things: personal taste, social status, fashion sense, a certain role within the community… You must understand that, on the other side, things cannot be as easily changed as here. We use clothing to alter our personal appearances to the extent that it is possible.”

As way of demonstration, he slowly pulled his shirt off over his head. He could have, of course, just wished it gone, but he thought Exploration might enjoy seeing how it was done in the waking world.

He passed the shirt to Exploration, who lit up as it took the item. It passed a hand over the stitching and the simple pattern, turned the shirt over and inside-out, and then tested the stretchiness of the material. Finally, and presumably after all other avenues of investigation had been exhausted, Exploration leaned down–and bit the shirt.

Solas burst into laughter, quite unintentionally, though he was used to Exploration’s non-standard approaches to some things. This was the first time he’d ever witnessed it produce a mouth, however.

Exploration did not seem insulted. Instead, knowing the source of Solas’s amusement, turned to him and gave him a wide smile. It was a bit too wide, a bit too out of proportion with the head, and it had just the slightest suggestion of teeth, like an afterimage. But it made Solas smother another bout of laughter.

“You have expanded your interests to the Elvhen body, then?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” Exploration said. “It cannot be such a bad thing, if so many of you Elvhen have them.”

“Even some us find them cumbersome,” Solas said.

“Truly?” Exploration asked, and dropped the shirt to reach over to him. “Is it difficult to carry?”

Exploration pressed its hands against Solas’s bare chest. Solas could feel, if not skin, then a warm pressure, like palms sliding over his skin through a dream. It was not unpleasant, and the sensation changed in intensity by the pulse of Exploration’s glow.

“It carries itself, you could say,” was Solas’s answer. “But it can also suffer injury, or be bound. Some prefer the dreams because of this.”

“It can do other things as well, though, can it not?”

Exploration’s touch became more pronounced, as its glow steadied and spread to every limb; an imitation of a body, made more accurate by its curiosity. Now its hands slid up Solas’s neck and to the sides of his head, framing his face.

“I’ve seen many uses for it,” Exploration said, in a playful lilt that made a knot tighten in Solas’s belly. Embarrassment, probably. Yes, that was probably it.

“There–ah, there are benefits,” he admitted, and then cleared his throat.

Exploration’s eyes flickered, the equivalent of blinking, and then its hands began to descend, leaving a trail of sensation like electricity down Solas’s skin. It wasn’t like being touched by a person, or by anything in the waking world. Though it did not touch his nerves in earnest, it still felt as though it was waking up everything under his skin.

The heat of this sensation dipped into the core of him, pooling in his belly. The air of the dream had turned hot, almost sweltering, as if demanding he discard his remaining clothing.

And Solas was at a loss. Many spirits expressed interest in the sensations of the flesh. Many were intrigued by desire, knowledgeable in how to wield it, and often propositioned mortals. It was not the kind of thing Solas had ever accepted before–he’d seen, on occasion, how mortals could easily become thralls to desire, and did not wish to trust himself with resisting them quite yet.

But this was something altogether different from his previous experience, either here or in the waking world. Exploration had no desire to manipulate or exploit. It was, if nothing else, merely plumbing mortal experience for its own curiosity, and it had not done–and would likely never do–any harm with this information.

As Exploration moved closer to him, he caught its wrists, gently removing its hands.

“Of course, we can–we can discuss such things,” Solas said, unsure. “You– if you have questions?”

“Yes!” Exploration said. “What do you taste like?”

This question sent several wheels grinding to a halt in Solas’s brain, as he went over the possible meanings of that question, rejected the most lewd interpretation, and then had to admit to himself that no matter what the question referred to, he had no idea.

Exploration did not allow him to form an answer before it leaned forward and bit down on his shoulder.

Solas gasped, though it was not a hard bite. It felt harmless–or, no, not harmless. It felt hot, and wet, with the sensation of blunt rows of teeth clamping down offering an interesting counterpoint. It felt like it was scraping at something inside him, like flint against rock, sending off sparks that would ignite soon.

Exploration’s wrists escaped his weak grasp, and it released Solas from the bite to pull back a bit. It nuzzled his jaw, and though spirits did not breathe, Solas felt the lick of hot breaths along his cheek. Close, so close. And so tantalizing.

“Sometimes,” Exploration said, “it is not about merely knowing something, but experiencing it up close. And I do so not like to be seen as spying on strangers, yes?”

Solas bit down the obvious reply, that Exploration must have spied on someone already, to have learned to do these things which so affected him.

It was better if it did not spy on people in their private moments, however. Some people did not like such things, and he did not want Exploration to suffer the consequences if some irritable dreamer decided it had ruined their tryst.

“And what is it that you wish to experience?” Solas asked instead.

“More,” Exploration said.

This time, when Exploration touched him, there was the feeling of fingers, contact splitting into five tingling trails, hot and cool at the same time. Over his chest, over a nipple, and then down, swirling around his navel and curling in the band of his trousers. Solas’s body was taut, every nerve alert. His back arched slightly, of its own accord, every burning inch of him wanting the touch to continue down.

Exploration pushed him backwards, and he found himself sprawled on his back in the grass, cool and tickling against his skin.

With meticulous attention, Exploration pulled his trousers down over his hips. Its gaze fell on the swell of his cock as it bobbed free, and it looked up at the sharp intake of breath Solas took, but then it continued to undress him, seemingly more concerned with this task than issues which Solas considered far more pressing.

He raised his arm and threw his forearm over his eyes, momentarily attempting to center himself. Intellectually, he wondered if this was a bad idea. On every other level, however, excitement surged through him, anticipation and the thrill of… exploration, for lack of a better term.

Indeed, Exploration was done with his trousers, and now drew its attention to the more pertinent feature of his anatomy.

Solas raised himself up on his elbow to look down his body at Exploration. Exploration tilted its head, considering, and then moved to kneel between his legs, putting a hand to each knee and spreading them open wider. Solas didn’t understand its intentions, until it began sliding its hand back up its body.

It was a slow, delicious drag, over and up his thighs. Everywhere Exploration touched, it felt like his body lit up, like the spirit’s light was being poured inside him in lapping waves. It throbbed in his veins, made him ache with need.

When Exploration finally grasped his length in hand, he moaned, overwhelmed. It was everything he’d felt before, but a thousandfold. The first experimental pump sent pleasure like lightning coursing up his body. It felt amazing the way only things in dreams could feel amazing, something so profound as to be almost detached from physical sensation.

Then Exploration leaned down and, watching Solas very closely, opened its mouth. A long, bright tongue lolled out, and though it looked only as insubstantial light, it felt warm and wet and rough as a real tongue when it swirled over the head of his cock. Solas’s hips bucked out of his control.

“Interesting,” Exploration said, and Solas only dimly heard it.

Instead he remained enraptured with how Exploration hovered up his body, and he caught it in his arms to pull close. It did not feel like a physical body completely, but it was close–it had weight and warmth and firmness and softness. Oh, gods, the softness was the best, as if he could sink into it.

He rolled them over and pressed down on Exploration. Its light flared in surprise. He kissed it, and it was like drinking fire without being burned. It made him feel thirsty and quenched at the same time.

His hips rolled with blind instinct, and he felt himself sink in. It was pressure and heat, tightening around his length, and he thrust into it, hips stuttering to find a rhythm. He tried not to rush, but did not know how he could stop, and just as he thought he’d reached an equilibrium, he felt the heat of Exploration’s body sink into him too, in counterpoint to his own motions.

He moaned and it sounded more like a sob. It was so much, it was more than he anticipated, and at the end of every stroke, he chased the flare of something incandescent in the pleasure it promised. Everything was bright, bright, bright, he couldn’t see, but it didn’t matter because he could feel, more, more, closer.

His thrusts were frantic, desperate even though he did not want this to end so soon, but when it ended, it felt like a vessel breaking, all the pleasure and heat and light escaping to wash over him at once in a single wave. He came harder than he’d ever thought possible, and everything blanked out for him for a few moments. The dream wavered.

Afterwards, he found himself sprawled in the grass, a cold breeze on his skin, and his own ragged breathing sounding harsh in his ears. He blinked until he could see straight again, and then there was Exploration hovering over him, peering down at him with interest.

“I think I learned a lot today,” it said in a chipper.

Solas still had enough breath in him to laugh.


End file.
